Page 64 of Disarm
“Mmhm” is all I get as a response, but I’ll take it over silence.
When he’s done, I hand him a towel and step back out, dripping sleeves and all. He dries off, pulls on a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt, and we head back to his room.
The bed looks comically small when I eye it with both of us in mind. A twin, pushed against the wall, the cheap mattress already sagging in the middle.
I don’t even hesitate.
“Come on,” I say, patting the side closest to the wall. “You get the corner. I’ll take the drop risk.”
His mouth twitches. “You’re gonna fall off in your sleep.”
“Then you’ll just have to catch me,” I counter.
That makes him smile a little, and he climbs in, curling up on his side, facing the wall. I yank off my wet shirt and slide in behind him, fitting myself to the curve of his body, chest to his back, arm looping around his waist. It’s cramped as hell, my knees bent awkwardly but I won’t move.
Not when I feel how hard he exhales the second I wrap around him.
His hand finds mine where it rests on his stomach. He threads our fingers together, holding on.
“Too tight?” I murmur.
“No,” he whispers. “Perfect.”
We lie there in the dark, listening to the muffled sounds of campus: a door closing down the hall, someone laughing outside, and the faint roar of distant traffic.
“Hey, Miggy?” The voice was small and if I hadn’t been paying attention, I’d have missed it.
“Yeah?”
“If I… If I ever get too much, you’ll tell me, right?”
My throat burns. “You’re never going to be too much.” I kiss the top of his head. “You’re just… a lot of love and a lot of hurt in one body. That’s not too much of anything. That’s just who you are and I love you for you, baby.”
He’s quiet for a long time when finally I catch his breathing starting to even out, slow and deep. I stay awake, counting each inhale, each exhale like a prayer.
Whatever it costs—sleep,time, sanity—I’ll pay any price.
What I can’t handle is him going through any of this alone.
I must dozeoff at some point in the night, because when I open my eyes, gray morning light is leaking around the edge of the blinds. My neck is stiff, my back’s killing me, and my arm’s half numb under his weight.
Worth it.
Caleb’s awake, staring at the ceiling. He looks… emptied out. Not as raw as last night, but distant, like he’s half out of his body.Dissociating.I recognize that look now.
“Morning,” I say softly.
Blinking a few times, he turns his head toward me. “Hey.”
“How you feeling?”
He considers it. “Like I got hit by a bus.” A pause, then a small smirk. “Twice.”
“Sounds about right.” I brush a thumb under his eye, wiping away the faint smudge of sleep. “You still good for Dr. Kaur at ten?”
“Yeah,” he says. His voice is flat but sure. “I need to go.”
“I can drive you,” I offer immediately. “Walk you in. Wait outside. Whatever you want.”
